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allbeendonebefore · 27 days

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today was a total wash, I had to ask where to go for volunteering since there was No info and just as I was about to leave the house at 11am i got the email that oh actually It's Already Been Finished for a Week and im like

i literally i planned my whole weekend around this, like i was going to meet the person I would be volunteering with on Saturday, I was going to get myself a specific treat after, I made sure to actually eat breakfast which i never do, I already input my work hours for this, literally about to go cross town and I'd even coordinated picking up some materials for the exhibition to drop off on site and get some work done (which was also a total wash due to the office closing and getting stuck in traffic for ten minutes after barely even leaving the house!) I packed my library book to return on the way and planned Conversation Topics about Professional Things Hell, I Even Made Cookies because i wanted to befriend my coworkers that i never see because I work 99% remotely, and like they didn't even have the courtesy to tell me?? what would have happened if i'd actually crossed town and showed up without emailing first?

like im not mad at anyone in particular and I know organizing something like this is a complicated deal and I bet everyone involved is already exhausted but i signed up as a volunteer to get free admission and i'd like to at least feel like i've earned it yknow?? and i could have been like. meal prepping or getting other work done or relaxing but nope entire day down the drain aarrhghghg

at least i had the athenian archon poll to entertain me today smh. tomorrow should be better but also worse. and then i have to be up at 6 at LEast on saturday and be there All Day so its like i am Annoyed that I could have been doing my work which actually has a deadline arrghghgh. and on top of that since i aged another year recently and haven't been stretching Of Course i slept funny and now i feel like i need to be cracked like a glowstick before i can be normal aaAAAAAAA

and then on top of that my neighbours didnt move their car so only one side of the street got swept >;T rocks in my eyes for eternitYYYY

#hapo rants #hapo's workventures #personal hapo #also just went to a talk on accommodating neurodivergency in museums #and how having the museums dictate the once a month time for accommodation is WHY they have low turn outs for those events #and messing with people's schedules or treating them as unimportant is not a cool move #and its talks like that that make me think Huh Maybe The Undiagnosed Whatever It Is That I Have is playing a part here #like Hmm I wonder Why I get So Angry about Wasting my Time #when i had like planned my outfit i had prepared Friendship Offerings i had marked out how long i would need to look lost #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa im fine im cool im calm #i am so stressed and tense and its partially because Slept Wrong but mostly because i spent ALL DAY in waiting mode #the worst part is i was actually looking forward to it today #normally i just put in all this work and still feel awful

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darling-louis · 6 years

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Distant...Friend?

This was another fic loosely based off of a dream I had! It’s a good thing I dream about Harry geez. Otherwise I’d be way slower to update.

Synopsis: You call your best friend harry after one of his performances. he’s worn out and about to go to bed but he makes time for you and gives you relationship advice....Which leads to a little more than you expected.

Word Count: 1.6k words!

Harry is absolutely knackered, to put it simply. He’s just gotten back to his hotel room after performing, not even pausing to take off his concert outfit--They can just pick it up tomorrow, he thought--The whole wardrobe team would have wanted to do a full session of carefully (not to mention painstakingly) taking back the outfit, ironing it, and hanging it back up on the rack, all while undoubtedly keeping pleasant conversation with Harry, who was simply too worn out to socialize right now. Don’t get him wrong, he loved his team, and he loved his outfit (black flared pants and a pink, sparkly, bedazzled jacket with a white, billowy chiffon shirt underneath), but Harry gets a bit fussy when he’s tired so it would be in everyone’s best interest if he just went back to his hotel room, he thought.

He could barely keep his eyes open long enough to figure out how the lock mechanic on his door worked (why does every hotel always have a different type of lock?), he can never figure them out if he’s honest, especially when he’s about to pass out from exhaustion at any second now. Finally, he somehow manages to get in and lock the door behind him, leaning up against the back of the now-closed door. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, he’d give anything to be naked right now. Just the mere thought of slowly and carefully removing his custom Gucci outfit made him whine like a baby. He really was glad no one was here to listen to him.

Just as he started to unbutton his trousers, his phone vibrated, still on silent from performing. Your smiling face lit up the screen, it was a picture the two of you took last Christmas when you took a picture with Santa—you two were the oldest ones there by far, which made all the parents give you nasty looks, probably because they were stuck with a bratty kid who had been crying for 30+ minutes, but hey, it’s their fault for having the kid.

Seeing your face, he smiled. He hasn’t gotten to talk to you nearly as much as he usually does, due to his extremely demanding tour schedule. He truly does feel bad for it, doesn’t want you to feel unimportant or ignored, even though each time you assure him that you completely understand, that it’s the price of being best friends with a world famous pop-star. He gave up on his pants, leaving them unbuttoned, and picked up his phone gingerly.

“I’ve missed ya, love,” is the first thing he says, he never felt right giving you a simple greeting.

“Hi, Haz,” you sighed. As soon as he heard the deflated tone of your voice, he sat up against the headboard of his bed, determined to stay awake for you—you sounded like you needed help.

Harry’s brows furrowed. “Wha’s the matter, love? Are y’alright?”

“Well...it’s Don, ya’know?” At your words, Harry rolled his eyes, thankful that you couldn’t see him. Don was your boyfriend, everyone knew the bloke was useless—everyone except Y/N, that is. You continued, “Haz, I know everyone thinks I’m mental for staying with him, but they don’t know what it used to be. How it used to be. When we first started dating, he was the perfect guy. Always so reassuring and innocent. I knew I was his whole world, and he was mine. He was the one who was more into the relationship in the beginning, not me. Now it’s all me.”

The line grew silent, while switching positions (he was now lying on his bed on his tummy), Harry was racking his brain for the best advice to give you, even though he’s told you the same thing each time, just different variations. He spoke in a soft, reassuring voice--one he knew helped soothe you when you were anxious, “Love, no one thinks you’re mental, we jus’ want wha’s best for yeh. Yeh love Donny boy so much that you can’t see how miserable yeh really are. Haven’ heard yeh this upset since your fish died las’ year.”

Y/N laughs silently, puffing air through her nose. Harry can hear it through the phone, and he knows he’s doing something right. He smiles. “Don’t remind me of her, ‘else I’ll turn into a blubberin’ baby and soak my phone with my tears,” She let out another sigh. “Harry...This time was different. He’s made me cry so many times before, but this time I think it was intentional.”

Harry tensed, voice getting deeper as he immediately asks “Wha’ do y’mean?”

“I was having an anxiety attack—I’ve been getting them a lot lately,” because of the way Don is treating you, he wanted to say, but he kept that himself. “I was overthinking everything and convinced myself that he didn’t want to be with me and I decided that instead of freaking out about it, why don’t I just ask him and get it over with? So I did,” There was a pause on the line, then random noises, Harry guessed Y/N was moving around. “Hi, honey….I’m on the phone right now, I can cook dinner after I get off…No, I didn’t wash your clothes yet, I was getting a project done. My deadlines tomorrow….Don, please calm down. I’ll do it while I’m making dinner….I’m still on the phone, Don….I’ll be down in 10 minutes. Watch the telly until I get back, you won’t even miss me.” The sad part about that last part, Harry thought, is that it’s probably true. There was some more shuffling on the other end, followed by the sound of a door closing, Harry guessed she went upstairs for some privacy. “Hi, sorry. He came home. I couldn’t focus all day, been worryin’ too much. Just made up the whole deadline bit. Maybe I should be an actor like you.”

Harry gave a small chuckle in reply, even though all he could think of was how Y/N felt like she had to put on a fake smile and joke around like everything was just a field of daisies and that she wasn’t hurting inside. “Continue on with your story, pet. Y’stopped after saying y’told him ‘bout your anxieties.”

“So I told him, and he sighed—sighed like he was hurting, too. I thought oh no, this is it, he’s finally going to end things, and I panicked even more, of course, and started crying. He just looked at me. Didn’t even grab my hand or anythin’. Jus’ looked at me like he didn’t know what to do, when he knows I’ve told him—even made him a list—of how he can help me when I’m having an anxiety attack. But of course each time he “doesn’t know what to do” and “thinks I’m over-reacting”. Haz, we’ve been dating for a year. When did it all go so wrong?”

Harry sighed, thinking of the nicest way possible to say this (his motto wasn’t Treat People With Kindness for nothing), “If he does that, then he’s not for you, button,” he says as he rolls over onto his side, switching the phone into his other ringed hand, his once-crisped-trousers becoming wrinkled. “Y/N, you are literally the sun. You are so bright, so amazin’, that Don literally looks like a piece of scum on your arm. He doesn’ deserve yeh. He deserves someone more on his level, ‘n tha’s nowhere near you. Kitten, you are amazing, ‘n he’s keepin’ you from seein’ your full potential. Keepin’ you from succeeding ‘n definitely not keepin’ yeh happy. Dare I say, ‘think even I would be a better boyfriend, ‘n I’m halfway across the world more than I am physically with you.”

Harry heard a sigh on the other end of the phone, followed by silence. Finally, she said “You’re right, H. You’re always right. I do agree with you though, you would be a better boyfriend.” Harry was glad that she couldn’t see him nervously biting his bottom lip.

He ran his tongue over his lips before he spoke. “Let me prove it to yeh, love.” He ran a ringed hand through his mess of curls atop his head.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, her voice barely a whisper when she said, “What?”

Harry cleared his throat, trying desperately to put his thoughts into words. “Let me prove it to ya—Show yeh how a proper guy should treat ya. I may not know much, but growing up with two women, I learned a few things ‘bout how they like to be treated—How they need to be treated.” He decided he was satisfied with how he worded things this time, something he always has trouble with.

The silence was deafening to Harry. Finally, he heard a quiet “Okay,” immediately followed by a much more confident, “Yeah. Okay. I’m gonna end things with Don, the worthless knob he is. Then, you can show me. Thank you, Harry. Really. I mean it.”

A toothy grin broke out across Harry’s face, his cheeks pinking up a great deal. He tried to play it cool by giving a wobbly-voiced “Like usual, I know the answer to all your problems.”

Y/N giggled softly, oh how Harry loved her giggle. Was glad he was the cause of it. “Like usual. I’ll keep you updated on the knob—I mean Don situation.”

Harry snickered in reply. “Please do. Be safe, Y/N. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Talk to you soon, Haz. Miss you loads.”

“Miss you too, button.”

With that, the phone conversation ended, leaving Harry to figure out how to get out of his custom-tailored clothes alone. Harry whined again, still thankful no one could hear him being a big baby—which he was, undoubtedly.

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arrow-guy · 6 years

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The Lighthouse (2/??)

Summary: The town is sleepy, the people are nice enough, but life gets turned upsidedown when the God of Thunder literally falls out of the sky.

A/N: I meant to only post holiday fics this week, but I finished this and it’s Thorsday so there was no way I couldn’t post it. I hope you like this part as much as you did the last! (Also! Quick little thing! The god who is speaking to the reader is not Loki, as I’ve seen a couple people tag this as such. It’s a surprise as to who it is, but it definitely is not Loki.)

Pairing: ThorxReader

Word Count: 1861

Warnings: None

Part 1

“Holy shit,” I stand up, shaking my head. “This isn’t happening. Thor is absolutely not in the middle of this massive crater in the forest twenty minutes outside of town.”

I’m afraid he is.

“Ooh, you don’t get to talk, creepy and misleading disembodied voice. You’re the one who got me into this mess.” I cross my arms and stare down at the unconscious god in front of me. “How did he get here anyway?”

It’s not my story to tell. You’ll have to take him back with you and make sure that he is alright.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You expect me to play the nursemaid and rescuer?” I laugh hysterically. “This isn’t what I signed up for, buddy pal. I never asked for any of this.”

Believe me, you’re not my first choice. Everyone else I tried to contact couldn’t hear me. You are the only human within a fifty mile radius of your town who is worthy to hear the voice of a god.

“Voice of a god, huh?” I rake a shaking hand through my hair and stare down at the blond man on the ground. “And which god am I speaking to?”

Unimportant. Get him into your vehicle and get him somewhere safe. Don’t forget the hammer.

“What?! He’s supposed to be six hundred something pounds! I don’t have the bodily strength to lift more than eighty, not to even mention that I’m probably not even close to worthy enough to lift Thor’s hammer!”

You yourself may not be worthy, but your companion animal certainly is. Send her to find it, and don’t worry about his weight. It won’t be an issue.

I sigh and look around the clearing, trying to find something that I might be able to roll Thor onto to drag him out of the crater. Daisy barks once, and shoots off around the crater, momentarily slowing now and then to sniff the ground before running off again. She disappears into the trees and, at first, I feel a pang of worry before realize that the disembodied voice said that she would be able to carry Thor’s hammer and that she’s probably gone off in search of it.

“This would be easier if campers would litter more often,” I huff out a breath, and fold my arms across my chest.

What were you hoping to find? Human rubbish?

“I was hoping for a trashed tent or even an abandoned tarp,” I answer, circling the unconscious god in the middle of this mess. “Something that would at least help me drag him out of here without breaking my back or giving him about a million splinters.”

Have you tried picking him up?

“I told you I have zero upper body strength. There’s no way I’ll be able to lift more than his arm.”

I thought I told you that his weight wouldn’t be an issue. Now the voice just sounds annoyed and I roll my eyes. You would do well to listen to me, human. I’ve told you twice already, and I’d rather not repeat myself a third time.

“Fine, I get it. Three strikes and you’re out and all of that.” I stare down at Thor, wondering about the best way to pick him up, thinking back to the videos I used to watch when I was seriously considering joining the military. “Fireman’s carry.”

What.

“I’ve watched videos of women who were five three carrying men nearly three times their weight long distances using the fireman’s carry. If what you’re saying is true and I don’t have to worry about my lack of strength, then I should be able to carry him back to the car the same way.”

As long as you can safely get him out of the crater, I don’t care what you do.

A loud thump followed by a round of excited barking pulls my attention away from Thor. Glancing around the clearing, I can see Daisy in the distance, standing next to what I can only assume is Thor’s hammer, shaking her tail excitedly.

I rub my hands together and crouch down and haul Thor up, my hands under his arms, sling one of his arms over my shoulder and push him up with the other, hooking my arm around one of his legs. I struggle to stand up momentarily before he seems to lighten immensely and I almost fall over due to lack of weight.

“Well that was unexpected,” I mutter. “Couldn’t have made him lighter before I picked him up?”

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

I roll my eyes. “Of course you don’t.”

I begin the trek back up the crater wall, occasionally having to kick the toes of my boots into the soft soil to get a firm foothold. It takes longer to get out than it did to get in, but I thankfully manage to avoid any falls this time.

As soon as I make it over the lip of the crater, Daisy is right there with the hammer in her mouth, her tail wagging faster than I’ve ever seen before.

“Did you do a good job, pup?” She moves her head around like she wants to bark, but doesn’t want to put the hammer down. “Good. Can you show me how to get back to the truck?”

She takes off into the underbrush without warning and I have to carefully pick my way through the bushes to follow after her. I try my hardest to avoid any tree branches and blackberry vines that we come across, but as soon as we set foot back on the trail I can see multiple small scratches, scrapes and cuts along his arms and hands.

It isn’t long after we find the trail again that Daisy and I are at the trailhead and standing in front of the truck. Shifting Thor around so that I can hold onto his arm and leg with the same arm, I dig around in my bag for the keys and unlock the passenger door. I try to very carefully place him in the passenger seat, only managing to bang his head once he’s actually in the truck when his head lolls back and smacks against the back window.

I heard that.

“Shut up,” I mutter. “Alright, Daisy lady, you have to ride in the back on the way home, okay?”

She just wags her tail and heads around to the bed of the truck without waiting for me. I quickly follow her and pull down the back gate. Crouching down, I pick Daisy up and lift her into the bed of the truck before closing it up again. I giggle as I circle back around the truck to the driver's side.

What are you laughing about?

“I just lifted Thor’s hammer,” I answer, closing the door and starting the engine.

No, you didn’t.

“Oh yes I did, I just put it in the bed of my truck with my dog.” I pull a U turn and head back to town. “Technically I lifted the hammer, and that totally counts.”

I’m not sure that counts, but whatever makes you happy.

“Thank you,” I drive on in silence, occasionally checking on Daisy in the rearview mirror to make sure she’s doing alright. “I’ll still be able to carry Thor once I get back, right?”

I would think so, yes.

“Well, that’s good because there’s no way he’ll fit on my couch so I’ll have to get him up to the third floor.”

Three floors sounds a bit excessive.

I laugh. “You’d think, but I live in a lighthouse. There isn’t really anywhere to go but up.”

When we turn onto Main Street, most of the debris from the storm has been cleared away and everyone seems to be back to their normal daily schedule. I wave to Diane Crawford as she crosses the street to Grover’s Grocery about six blocks away from the lighthouse.

Then I hope the enchantment holds long enough for you to get him upstairs.

I laugh. “So do I. I’d rather not be the one who has to drag him up the stairs on top of the reason he’s got a headache.”

I can almost hear the disembodied voice laugh before they respond. I imagine that he would appreciate that.

“I’m glad that you think so, disembodied voice.” I pull into the driveway and kill the engine. I quickly get out of the car and let down the back gate so that Daisy can get down. When she hops down, I unlock the door to the house and push it open. Daisy brushes past me so that she can greet Charles. I shake my head and head back to the truck to retrieve the unconscious god in my passenger seat. “It’d be really cool if you’d tell me what your voice is so I don’t have to keep calling you “disembodied voice”. Just a thought.”

Perhaps in the coming days, if you treat him well.

I frown as I heft Thor up onto my shoulders. I kick the car door closed and carefully make my way into the house. Charles winds through my legs as soon as I’m through the door and I have to shoo him away before I can head for the stairs.

“I don’t really understand why you’re being so secretive,” I barely manage to miss hitting the inner pole of the spiral staircase with Thor’s head as I try to get up to the third floor as quickly as possible. “You obviously know a lot about me, and I have little to no knowledge about Thor and I know even less about you. If I’m going to be helping him, I need more information.”

It’s not mine to give.

“Great, well when you’ve got permission to spill the beans, I’m all ears.”

I hit the third floor landing and slowly pull open the door, trying my best to avoid dropping the god of thunder. As soon as we’re through the doorway, I’m hit with an almost crippling wave of nostalgia. I haven’t been in my father’s room since he passed. Everything is exactly the way he left it and it still hurts to know that he’s not just testing me to see if I really can take care of the lighthouse on my own.

I bite my cheek to distract myself from the memories and pull back the duvet so I can offer Thor some kind of comfort for when he wakes up. When he’s all covered up, I pull a set of clean clothes from my father’s drawers and set them on the wooden chair a short ways away from the bed. The jeans may not fit, but the fisherman’s sweater definitely will. I leave a note on the clothes, and when I’m sure that I’ve done everything I can, for the time being, I head back downstairs to find something to do.

Are you alright?

I shake my head and comb my hands through my hair. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Are you sure?

I snort. “Look, if you’re going to withhold information, I can do the same.”

Fair enough.

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Part 3

Okay, Thor was quite unconscious in this part, but I can promise that the next part will be much more lively. Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked the piece please reply to the post or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

Tag listers:

(if you’d like to be tagged in future parts, comment on this post or just shoot me a message!)

@lost-yet-never-found, @tempestinatea-cup,@helmerfan43,@pokemaniac1,@baguettegirl,@ididnotseethatcoming,@chronolockcd,@creaturefeatures101,@wintcrcaptain,@arianaamaris,@nerdycinderella,@imagine-assembling-the-avengers,@wordstothewisereaders,@ptprocrastination,@1950schick,@neverenough24,@amayasymone23,@liladeldiamandis,@thebeutifulsunriseofmoi,@numbersdonotwinbattles,@super-potter-4ever,@kaykay0522,@arfrona-and-marvel,@ek823,@deansbaby67supernatural,@ilovebeingjoyful,@always-a-marvel-addict,@furrywerewolfcollector,@evansscruff,@theamazingworldofmarvelfics,@maurici65,@swing-dance-into-my-heart, @kissofvenom922, @not-that-type-of-person,@marvel-at-stucky,@arianaamaris, @dawn-phantomhive, @superwhovian80, @always-a-marvel-addict,@fangirlwithasweettooth,@lunalovegood2,@awesomeahwu,@thedoctorlivesthroughbooks,@kitkatgaming,@wordstothewisereaders, @mairhof1,@fantasiesfortomorrow,@leahhavoc,@awesomea102938,@samwinchesterswifey,@kaywolves,@anthonysfark,@childrenofhumanity,@bucky-barnes–winter-soldier, @gucci-zjm,@howdoesoneadult,@nyotapon,@redroomproperty,@sscarletwitchess, @saved-by-words-and-music, @thefandomplace, @themeechofitall, @yourbuddyyourpalyourbucky, @claws-of-vibranium, @here-to-wreak-havok, @gcneral-organa, @always-an-evans-addict, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @marvelbase001, @lady-thor-foster, @vanene20 , @chelzwwefan , @occamybarnes , @fandomlady-scar , @stormyfandoms

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